Wake the Sun
by Trevor The Story Teller
Summary: Crona's life, from the very beginning. Maka/Crona slight Crona/Ragnarok Rated M for later chapters
1. Chapter 1

_3_

She pulled him onto her lap, "I have some-thing for you. You've been very good lately, so I think you deserve a treat." The milk was warm, coloured with a pink dye to match his hair colour. He giggled, "Purple!" Medusa nodded, "Yes Crona, it is purple. It's the same as your hair. It's all yours, drink up." And he did, every last drop. He took in its sweetness. Its fragrant scent that smelled lightly of lavender. It was his special treat. The first act of kindness in his young life. Medusa stroked his hair and watched as he lifted the cup and drank. "Only three and you can already drink from a normal cup. You're very smart. You'll grow big and strong. You'll be very powerful Crona. You'll make me proud. I know it." He was filled with a warmth that spread like the sun's rays. "How?" he asked happily. "Because you've already made it this far. I believe in you." He giggled again and gently nuzzled into her hand. He couldn't tell whether it was from the milk or Medusa's equally sweet words but he took both in with great delight.

Not one hour later he was screaming with agony that no toddler should ever experience. It felt as though every particle in his body was being ripped to shreds. And it was. By the black blood. That was no treat, for that was poison lined with sugar. And he drank every last drop of it. Taking in its sweetness and its fragrant scent that smelled lightly of lavender. For that was his treat.

Alone yet never alone. And that was the day he met Ragnarok.


	2. Chapter 2

_5_

Heavy sobs rocked his body. Tears soaked the white pillow to the point where they became uncomfortable on his face. He felt the familiar ripple across his back and secretly begged for him not to come out. Not now. He couldn't deal with his abuse. Not now. Yet, he never listened to him and he soon felt the familiar 'whack' of a gloved hand on his head.  
"Stop crying ya big baby!" He sniffled, "I c-can't. I c-c-can't kill th-them! I d-do-don't know how to d-deal with it!" He hit him again, "That's a stupid excuse and you know it. You say it every fucking time. Just own up to it!" Another sniffle, "I don't know how to deal with it." His voice was a hoarse whisper now.  
He knew how the bunnies felt. Their terror and pain. He had killed their mother and he knew his own wouldn't keep them alive for very long. He didn't want them to suffer, but he couldn't bring him-self to bring Ragnarok down upon them. He cried harder. He knew she was furious with him. He was just so weak. So pathetic. How could he do this? How was he supposed to be a demon god? It was impossible for a weakling like him. "Stop crying." he sniffled, "I c-can't! I d-" Ragnarok clasped a hand over his mouth. "You don't know how to deal with it? I know. When I'm demon god, I'll destroy every-thing you don't know how to deal with. Starting with that hag!" He said, bringing him-self down so he was eye-level with him. His red, puffy eyes meeting his ping-pong ball ones."R-Really? Promise?" He nodded and licked away his remaining tears like a puppy, "Promise. Now get some sleep." he gave a weak, half-smile and hugged him, "Thank you!" His arms flailed and he pushed him away, "I'm not a fucking teddy bear!" He blushed, "S-Sorry." One of his arms went around his waist and the other one around his shoulders, "Go to sleep." He nodded, pulling his knees in and hugging his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

_8_

It's a different city very week. A different town. A different country. The only thing that stays the same are their screams. They always seem to plead the same thing. 'Please don't kill me. I have a wife and children!' or 'I'll give you any-thing! Spare me!' Crona almost finds it funny how no matter where he is in the world, they all scream the same way.

Tonight it's an Irish tavern. "Sweet! Maybe tonight we can get drunk!" Ragnarok yells enthusiastically. "Sshh Ragnarok. Keep it down. You have to be quite now." He walks into the tavern. Drunk men are there, chugging as many alcoholic beverages as they can before sunrise.

There are women there too, or at least Crona thinks they're women. They have practically no clothing on and their make-up is frightening. "Oi! Who's the kid?" The man is clearly drunk. He can easily see the wedding ring on his finger but the other hand is up a woman's skirt.

Crona glances around at the floor. He's gathering a crowd, he doesn't like crowds.

_'What are you waiting for Crona? Kill them.' _

Her voice hit's the back of his head in little lashes.

"I can't. There are so many people."

He whispers back.

"Who da hell is he talking to?" One of them shouts at the other and more murmurs arise.

_'Don't worry about it. Kill them. Kill them all.'_ She says and he looks around at the faces.

They're all asking so many questions, its confusing.

_'If_ _you_ _don't_ _kill_ _them,_ _they'll_ _start_ _attacking_ _and_ _causing_ _commotion._ _Then_ _other_ _people_ _will_ _come_ _and_ _you'll_ _have to_ _kill_ _them_ _too_. _Just_ _get_ _it over_ _with.' _

She's right. She's right and he knows it. Yet some-how he can't do it. But then again, when can he? "Come on boys, get 'em!"  
The man lunges at him with a knife. He sighs, she warned him. She wouldn't have warned him if she didn't care. He lets the madness take him over and suddenly, every thing is so funny and nothing matters any-more.

He swings.


	4. Chapter 4

_12_

He's ill. He has to be. There's no other explanation. All of the fat that used to circle around his arms and face has long melted away, leaving only a thin layer of muscle on his skeleton-like shape. He's getting strange…feelings. His voice is continuously changing. But the worst is the dreams. The dreams.

He runs to Medusa. Surely she'll help him. He can't be Kishin if he's seriously ill right? She'll cure him. But she doesn't. Some-where in the back of his mind he expected this, but that doesn't lessen the blow. She sends him back to his room, promising him that if he ever mentions it again he will get worse and die. That things like these are best left forgotten.

He buries his face deep into his pillow, feeling foolish. He didn't acknowledge the ripple across his back as Ragnarok springs up-although, it's becoming a bit more difficult because his appearance is becoming more and more painful each year-and begins to cackle.

"You're so stupid Crona!" He adapts a high mockery of Crona's voice. "Medusa-Sama, Medusa-Sama help me I'm sick!" Crona makes a small noise to get him to stop. "Help me! My voice is changing!" He squeals.

"Cut it out Ragnarok!" Crona complains into his pillow.

"Medusa-Sama, explain to me what a wet dream is 'cuz I'm too big of a moron to figure it out!"

Crona glares at him, "Stop it! I didn't even say that!"

Ragnarok laughs again and Crona goes back to his pillow. Ragnarok pokes his head, "Hey, I'll tell you what's wrong."

He lifts his head, "What?"

Ragnarok crosses his arms, "I'm only telling you if you promise that I get first crack at your food for the next month." Crona sighs but nods his head, dwindling on the rare idea that his partner might be joking. "Okay, but I'm only explaining this once…"


End file.
